


More Than It Hurts

by twiceasfar



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Mentions Suicide, Sad, it might be triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5725345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twiceasfar/pseuds/twiceasfar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hii, if this gets a positive response I will continue to write it! if not here is a lil one shot. might be triggering due to mentions of suicide. apologies for any spelling errors.</p>
    </blockquote>





	More Than It Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> hii, if this gets a positive response I will continue to write it! if not here is a lil one shot. might be triggering due to mentions of suicide. apologies for any spelling errors.

The wind whipped through his hair, air thick with moisture. The sound of the waves crashing against the cement columns beneath him set a rhythm for his shallow breaths.

He cannot help but to think if he were looking in a mirror and not out over the water he would look like he did as a child; red cheeks and glazed eyes. It makes him tremble, which seems to be a constant state for him these days.

Usually when he comes up here he is afraid. But tonight is different and that itself should probably provoke a different type of fear.

Shuffling forward, he feels the tips of his shoes hanging dangerously over the ledge. He is still clutching the lamppost, knuckles straining white from the pressure of his hold.

All he has to do is move forward a few more inches. All he has to do is let go and it will all go away.

Tyler is so tired of living this way. It’s been like this for years now. Every morning he wakes up with dark circles under his eyes, cheeks sunken in slightly more than the day before. He forces himself out of bed despite the fact that every fiber of his being is begging him to stay put. He goes through classes, works his shitty job at the restaurant and pretends to have a deeper connection with the people around him than is actually true.

For what?

His thoughts shift to his father, his mother, and then each of his siblings. Guilt stabs him violently in the stomach when all he can think is that they would be better off without him.

Tears begin to sting the corners of his eyes, clinging to his lashes before dripping pitifully down his cheeks. He’s glad it’s a Sunday night and everyone seems to be tucked safely in bed. He’s the only sad fuck out walking the bridge. If you could consider this walking anyway.

It’s sort of a ritual for him now. Once a week he comes out here alone and balances himself on the barrier, inching as far forward as he can. It had started off as a way of feeling alive, a rush of adrenaline to remind him that he wasn’t dead yet. He would see how far he could push before his fear engulfed him and forced him to hop down and return to his miserable life.

But recently it had developed into something much deeper than a sick twisted game. Tonight the difference was almost palpable, like he could reach out and physically hold his despair. Like he could measure it by handfuls. He was as far forward as he had ever dared to go and the familiar panic was failing to flood his senses.

This was it.

“Hey!” There’s a loud crash behind him and Tyler whips his head around, eyes widening as they land on a boy rushing toward him. He looks down into the water, dark waves stirring perilously below him. Then his eyes dart back to whoever was now sprinting at him.

Each force is taunting him now. The waves silently begging him to join them in their endless dance and the boy grasping at his wrist and attempting to pull him away from them.

“What are you doing up here?” The boy asks as he catches his body in large arms, bringing his eyes to meet Tyler’s and revealing the most brilliant features he has ever seen. He’s absolutely wild, bright red curls plastered against the skin of his forehead by a thin layer of sweat, eyes shining with everything Tyler himself cannot be.

“You could have hurt yourself, you know?”

Tyler swallows before letting out a sharp and bitter laugh as he nosedives back into reality. The tears still haven’t stopped, if anything they fall faster, more freely.

He had noticed long ago that the moment someone stopped to ask if he was alright was the moment something seemed to explode inside him. Perhaps it was the idea that someone cared enough to ask. Or perhaps it was because he had to work himself up to this point for someone to notice things weren’t alright.

“Or was that the point?” Now this beautiful stranger is catching on. The boy’s features contort and for a moment Tyler almost feels guilty. Then another beat passes and he thinks the boy is about to start crying as well.

“Hey, why would you—you’re so…” He seems to be at a loss for words, the lines of his face intensifying with a frown. “So beautiful,” he finally manages to whisper.

Then he’s tugging Tyler into his chest, squeezing him tightly and engulfing him in his warmth. Tyler wants to push away, wants to climb back up the rail and heave himself over. But he can’t bring himself to move. His feet are rooted to the spot, legs weighted down with a nameless emotion.

They stay like that for several minutes before the boy lets go, holding Tyler out by his shoulders and bending at the knee, leveling them so he can look him in the eye. Tyler can’t force himself to look back.

“I’ll be right back, alright? Stay put, alright?” His voice is gentle, soothing. Each word comes out so slowly that it seems to amplify the genuineness of his concern. But Tyler can hear the panic laced into each repetition of the word ‘alright’.

Alright? No, not alright. Tyler is certainly not alright.

Tyler stands dumbly in the middle of the walk as the boy jogs back to his bike, which Tyler assumes made the violent clatter when the boy arrived.

With a quick glance he knows the boy is busy digging around his bag for something, his back turned. He wonders what he’s doing. He might have made more of an effort to find out if at that exact moment the outcome of fifteen minutes from now would matter.

Tyler takes his chance to resume his position, to make his decision.

He’s just about to let go, to plummet into the depths of the water and quite possibly fracture every bone in his body from how shallow he thinks it might be.

But the boy has returned, the boy has returned and is shoving him back more violently before.

They just stare into one another’s eyes, Tyler watching the boy with hair thin and faded from being dyed one too many times. There’s an intensity in his gaze that he can’t describe, a tension in the contact of their skin that almost burns.

Before he can begin to label the feeling or fully understand what’s going on the boy is crashing his  chapped lips against Tyler’s, working his mouth as if his life depends on it.

Maybe Tyler’s does.

The boy’s arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer. And Tyler is melting into him, tangling his fingers into the mass of damp curls at the nape of his neck.

And he’s crying even harder now because this rush of adrenaline is nothing, _nothing_ compared to the one he gets from flirting with the idea of flinging himself from the bridge.

“What’s your name?” The boy says breathlessly after reluctantly forcing them apart. With his forehead pressed to Tyler’s, he brings one hand from around his waist to carefully trace along his jawline with the tip of his index finger. Tyler resists the urge to draw back from his touch.

“Tyler,” He replies in a strained voice. “Tyler Joseph.”

“Well Tyler Joseph, I’m Josh.” The stranger answers, eyes flickering to Tyler’s. Their close proximity allows Tyler a moment to study the flecks of colour in Josh’s eyes. Not only are they brown but there’s also gold and hazel swimming around the edges of his irises. "And I’m really glad I decided to save my morning bike ride for tonight.”

Josh pauses for a moment, letting out a soft breath that Tyler feels against his lips. “And I think one day you will be too.”

Tyler shudders, swallowing back a string of words that he isn’t sure he wants to leave his mouth. This complete and total stranger doesn’t deserve to know the things he can’t even tell the people he has known his entire life. But he can almost feel the relief settling before the words even leave his mouth. Just the thought of getting out what has been threatening his mental state for years is... is… exactly what he needs. Even if it is just for right now. Even if this boys presence is as ephemeral as the waves rolling below them.

“Josh,” he hangs his head with shame, resting his head in the crook of the boy’s neck as he sucks in pathetic breaths of air. “Josh I-I want to die,” he whispers, voice cracking on the last word. He slips down, supported only by Josh’s arms which are tightening around him possessively. Tyler wonders why no one else has ever held him like this. He misses the contact before it’s even left him. He misses Josh before he’s even gone.

And Josh will go. Everything good always does.

“I know,” Josh responds without hesitation. “It’s okay to be sad Tyler.”

Before Tyler has a chance to answer, muffled sirens sound from behind him. He tries to push back but Josh refuses to loosen his grip, muttering sweet things against his ear.

Tyler finally understands where Josh went, what he was doing when they separated before. He feels betrayed, more betrayed than he should.

The wailing of the signal pushes closer and Tyler is struggling to get away with firm determination.

 “I’ll see you again Tyler Joseph,” Josh says, swollen lips brushing against Tyler’ ear as he speaks. “Promise.”

Then someone is pulling him away. And the boy is running to his bike, slinging a leg over it just as a police officer rushes over and begins to bombard him with a string of questions Josh can’t seem to answer. And someone with a tender voice is forcing Tyler to lie back onto a stretcher and he wants to scream but his throat is so tight that nothing comes out.

But really, he thinks, the silence pouring from his gaping mouth speaks more than that piercing sound ever could.

So instead he allows his head to drop back against the cheap fabric of the head rest, mouthing the same name over and over just as he dissociates and slips into a different place. A place he had never known existed until moments before.

_Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh._


End file.
